No Other Love
by AnnaOtaku
Summary: Hermione Granger is left in the care of her estranged uncle's family after her parents die. There, in the cold, uncaring household, she befriends another orphan-young Harry Potter-and finds a brother to last through all of life's trials.
1. October 1, 1985

**So, this is just a little idea that popped into my head. It's just a bunch of drabbles about this AU, a few from each year. Basically, it's how things would have been different if Harry and Hermione had grown up together. Not a full-fledged story, but it hits on all the important points in the series. It's a lame start, I know, but bear with me!**

**Title susceptible to change.**

**I don't own anything.**

_There's no other love like the love for a brother. There's no other love like the love from a brother. ~Astrid Alauda_

_October 1, 1985_

Harry was sitting in his cupboard, playing with the toy plane they had learn to make in school that day, when the doorbell rang. It wasn't an unusual happening; Aunt Petunia was always trying to impress people with the impeccable cleanliness of Number Four, Privet Drive. Harry barely noticed it, or the awkward silence that ensued as the door was opened. No, it wasn't until a loud, pleading voice traveled from the drawing room to where Harry sat that the boy knew something was different about this visit.

"Please, Aunt Petunia! I'm begging you! I can't take care of her, myself! I know Uncle Vernon has been estranged from his sister for years, but I'm only nineteen. I can't take care of a five-year-old! I can barely take care of myself!" Harry opened the door to his cupboard ever so slightly, sticking his head through. His Aunt's shrill voice met his ears.

"Emily, I'm sorry, but we already have another…_orphan_ in our care. We couldn't possibly take in _another_." Harry cocked his head, wondering what she could possibly be talking about.

"Please, Aunt Petunia. It would just be for a few years, until I can get a decent job and a stable income. Please." The girl's voice grew soft, and Harry moved closer, curious as to what she meant.

There was a silence, then his aunt replied so quietly that Harry barely heard it, "Alright. I'll have to talk to Vernon, but…alright."

"Thank you! Thank you so much, Aunt Petunia! Thank you!" Harry looked around the corner to see a dark-haired girl spring up from the couch and hug his aunt. Next to her was a silent child, a girl about Harry's own age. Her hair was brown and bushy, her eyes wide and nervous. She noticed Harry, and gave him a small smile.

* * *

"And you can sleep in Dudley's extra room. Here, we'll take your bags up there now." It had been half an hour since the teenager had left, leaving the young girl behind with a few bags. "Harry! Take these up there, now!" Aunt Petunia pulled him from the cupboard, where he had snuck back to after seeing the girl. Nodding silently, he lugged the bags up the stairs, running into Dudley, who proceeded to shove him out of the fat boy's way. Harry stumbled, falling down the stairs to the first landing. His knees stung horribly, and his glasses laid broken on the floor. He looked up to see a small hand being offered to him.

The girl stood above Harry and asked, "Are you okay?" He nodded, taking the hand she offered.

"Thanks. I'm Harry." He stood up, grabbing her bags again.

"I'm Hermione." She grabbed one of them from his hand, walking up the stairs with him.

"Oh, Hermione, you don't have to talk to him. He's perfectly capable of doing that himself." Aunt Petunia pulled the girl away, glaring at Harry.

"But I want to." His aunt pursed her lips, tugging the girl away.

"No, you don't."

* * *

The family had gone to bed, leaving Harry to his own devices. Sneaking into the kitchen was a nightly adventure for the boy, who never seemed to get much to eat at dinner, considering his cousin ate _everything_. After eating his fill of leftover beef stew, he noticed a flash of light from the floor of the drawing room. Investigating, he found a small necklace. It was a locket, the letters _H.J.G._ engraved on a small, silver heart. _Hermione?_

He snuck up the stairs, mindful not to step on the ones that creaked, down the hall to Hermione's new room. He stuck his head in, to find the girl crying.

"What's wrong?" He asked, sitting on the edge of her bed. She sniffled, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her nightdress.

"I miss Mommy and Daddy," she said, lip trembling.

He frowned. "I'm sorry. What happened?"

"The were in a car wreck. Emily says they're in heaven now."

"Me too." Hermione looked up, confused.

"You too?"

"My parents were in a wreck, too. Dudley says it's 'cause they were trying to get away from me." Hermione frowned, crawling over to where he sat.

"That's not true. He's being mean."

"He's _always_ mean." They sat in silence for a moment, then Harry handed her the necklace. "I found this downstairs."

Hermione gasped, grabbing the necklace from his hands. "Thank you! I thought I had lost it!" She pulled him into a hug, on the verge of tears. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Harry froze, confused. He couldn't remember the last time he had been hugged.

"Well, I better go back to bed, or Aunt Petunia will get mad." Hermione nodded, placing the necklace on the bedside table.

"Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Hermione."

**Alright. That was really short. But I didn't want to do much at this age. The others will be much longer!**

**Please review!**

**Anna**


	2. December 17, 1989

**So, I realized how crappy that last chapter was, so I decided to do another one tonight. I mean, 77 hits, and 3 reviews? That's when I knew I was doing something wrong lol. Anyhoo, here's another one! I hope it's better!**

**Also, give some love to my real works! Please? (Link on Profile)**

_There's no other love like the love for a brother. There's no other love like the love from a brother. ~Astrid Alauda_

_December 17, 1989_

"You're such a loser!" "Dork!" "Nerd!" "Don't you do anything but read?!" "LOSER!" Hermione stared at the ground, not meeting the eyes of her attackers. Dudley was at the front of the group, egging his little followers on.

" She's all buck-toothed! Like a rabbit! Come here, little bunny! Come on! Come on!" One of the boys starting making tutting noises, patting on his thighs. The others howled with laughter, making rabbit ears at Hermione, sticking out their front teeth. She looked down, trying not to cry.

"Leave her alone." Harry stepped in front of Hermione, his arms outstretched, blocking her from their view. The gang just laughed harder, slapping each other on the back.

"Or _what_, Potter? You'll tell on us? Ooh…" Dudley mocked. "You going to tell your Mummy on us? Oh, wait, you _can't_, now can you?"

Harry glared at him, at a loss for words.

Dudley continued. "You're a _freak_, Harry. Your parents didn't want you. We don't want you. No one wants you."

Harry balled his fists, ready to attack, but he never got the chance. Hermione stepped in front of him, livid.

"I want him." Her voice was quiet, but terrifying. Out of nowhere, the trashcans that had been sitting behind the small girl went flying through the air, straight towards the boys. Like giant bullets, they soared though the sky, whistling. The gang ran, shrieking and screaming, until they were knocked over like bowling pins. Their cousin was hit square in the fat behind, sending him face-first into the concrete.

Dudley ran to the school building sporting a bloody nose, shouting, "You'll pay for this you freaks!"

Harry stared at Hermione, mouth wide. She had a similar expression on her face as she stared at her hands, amazed. Finally, Harry spoke, his voice trembling with awe. "D-did you-? The trash bins? You?" She nodded slowly, then shook her head.

"I…I don't know." They looked at each other, stunned, then walked back to the school slowly. The teacher stood by the door, scowling.

"Potter! Granger! Did you attack these boys?" She pointed to a now fake-crying Dudley, who was being comforted by his nearly-laughing posse. The two shook their heads, but the teacher glared at them until Harry spoke.

"It was me, ma'am. Hermione tried to stop me, but she couldn't hold me back. I'm sorry." Hermione tried to say something, but Harry grabbed her arm, flashing her a warning look. She said nothing, but kept shooting him grateful glances. The teacher shook her head as she led him down to the office, a place he spent a frequent amount of time.

"Ah, back again, Mr. Potter. Just take a seat, we'll be with you in a moment."

* * *

"You ungrateful little-! We give you food! We give you clothing! We give you a place to sleep! And THIS is how you repay us? By attacking our son?!" Uncle Vernon grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, shoving him into the cupboard. "You WILL not leave this place until school tomorrow. You WILL not get supper. You're lucky we don't keep you in there until Christmas!" He heard his uncle lock the door, then storm up the stairs. Harry sighed, lying back onto the bed.

The rest of the evening went by quietly, and Harry was almost asleep when a soft click alerted him of Hermione's presence. She smiled sadly, handing him a bowl of onion soup and bread. He devoured it gratefully as she watched from the other end of his bed. When he finished, he sighed, rubbing his too-small stomach.

"Thanks, 'Mione. I was starving." She smiled, but didn't say anything. He cocked his head, asking, "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to get you in trouble. I would have taken the blame. You didn't have to." He rolled his eyes, grinning darkly.

"Of course I did. I'm used to it. If you got in trouble, you would be shoved under here too, and then neither of us would be able to get to sleep. _I _barely fit in here, as it is." She giggled softly as she toyed with a loose thread on Harry's blanket.

"So, Christmas break is in a few days…" Hermione started, looking down. "I can't believe you're not coming with us, Harry."

He shrugged. "I prefer Mrs. Figg to the Dursleys any day." She smiled sadly.

"But you'll be all alone on _Christmas_. That's just wrong." He shrugged again, indifferent.

"It's not like I ever get a present from them. Actually, I take that back. Them going away is the best present they could give me." He smiled, leaning back against the wall.

"Well, I still think it's completely unfair." Her bushy hair bounced as she said this, adding emphasis to her statement. The two children sat in silence for a moment, until Hermione gasped, looking up in excitement.

"I've got it! It's _perfect_!" She bounced off the bed, opening the door softly.

"Got _what_?" Harry whispered, looking confused. Hermione put a finger to her lips, listening upstairs. Uncle Vernon grunted in his sleep, then started snoring.

"Your Christmas present." She closed the door in his very confused face, tiptoeing up the stairs. Harry shrugged, sliding back into bed. _He_ already had her present.

* * *

The next of school, Harry was not allowed out during recess as part of his punishment. Instead, he had to copy lines onto the blackboard. _I must not have overly-violent tendencies_. _I must not have overly-violent tendencies_. _I must not have overly-violent tendencies_…

It was close to the end of the period, and his hand was starting to cramp. The teacher looked out the window, bored, then gasped, running outside. Harry figured it must have been pretty important, because she had forgotten her coat, and it had started to snow. He figured Dudley had been dared to lick a lamppost and gotten his tongue stuck, or something along those lines of stupidity. He chuckled to himself at the image.

Wondering if it was true, Harry ran over to the window to see where the teacher had gotten to. He was stunned at what he saw.

A fierce-looking Hermione was standing over a terrified Dudley, restrained only by the teacher. She was quickly led back to the classroom, then straight to the office. Harry stared at her, incredulous, as she walked by. She gave him a small, knowing smile, then walked to the office, head held high.

Dudley came in shortly after, the ghost of a black eye starting to form on his face. He glared at Harry, then sat in his seat, not speaking a word for the rest of the day.

* * *

"How _dare_ you! You're just as bad as that freakish nephew of mine! You're lucky we only have one cupboard, or you'd be living in the other one!" Harry watched Hermione get tongue-lashed by Aunt Petunia through the slats of his cupboard, wincing every time her voice went up an octave.

"And you can _forget_ about coming to Monaco with us. We have arranged with Mrs. Figg for you to stay with her. Now go to your room and stay there until tomorrow!" Hermione ran up the stairs, and Aunt Petunia stormed off into the kitchen. Harry smiled, happy that he would be able to spend Christmas with Hermione.

A few seconds later, he heard small, light footsteps come down the stairs, then heard a voice from right above his door. "Happy early Christmas, Harry."

* * *

Mrs. Figg's house smelled like cabbage, and there were too many pictures of cats, but it was certainly better than being crammed in the tiny cupboard. She let them eat stale fruitcake and drink hot cocoa before bed, but made them help her wrap presents and send greeting cards to all of her relatives and acquaintances during the day.

Christmas morning came soon enough, and Hermione was surprised to find a very excited looking Harry bouncing on her bed as soon as the sun was up. She rubbed her eyes, about to ask what in the world was wrong with him, when he shoved a messily wrapped package into her arms. She blinked, confused.

"Well, go on, open it." He beamed at her, waiting in anticipation. She carefully tore off the newspaper that held it together, surprised to find a book. Grimm's Fairytales

"Oh, _wow_, Harry. Where did you get this? It's amazing!" She opened it up, running a hand over the pages tenderly.

"I read it so many times in the school library that the librarian just gave it to me. Said they were too scary for the other children, and were going to get rid of it, anyway. Replace it with more…Disney fairytales. So I thought you would like it." She smiled at him, touched.

"Oh, thank you, Harry! Thank you!" She wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing as hard as she could. "Now I wish I had gotten you a real present." She broke away, looking guilty. He shook his head, smiling.

"You already did. You stayed behind."

"Oh, that wasn't hard."

Harry looked at her incredulously. "You broke the rules for me, 'Mione. You _never_ break the rules." She blushed, looking at the ground.

"Well, he deserved it. Anyways, I still wish I had gotten you a present. You've done so much for me." She clutched at the book, fingers trailing over the dark green cover.

"Well, that's what brothers are for," Harry said, picking at the fabric of his too-big pajamas.

Hermione sat there, confused. "Brothers?"

He nodded, taking her hand in his. "I will always be your brother, 'Mione, even if we're not really related."

She hugged him again, laughing. "And I will always be your pesky sister."

The sun rose above the horizon, shining down on the freshly-fallen snow. The two siblings-of-sorts sat together talking and laughing, waiting for Mrs. Figg to wake up. Little did they know that she was in the next room, knitting and listening to everything they said. A small smile passed over her lips, and she decided to let them bond a little bit more.

"Happy Christmas, Hermione."

"Happy Christmas, Harry."

**See, there we go. Much better. The next chappie is when it starts getting exciting! (hint: they will both be ready to turn eleven yay!) No, this story is NOT H/Hr. Canon pairings. Just some brotherly/sisterly fluff. =)**

**Review PLEASE!!!**


	3. July 21, 1991

_There's no other love like the love for a brother. There's no other love like the love from a brother. ~Astrid Alauda_

_July 21, 1991_

There was a hush about the house, no one daring to say a word. Hermione sat on her bed, staring out the window. A lone tear rolled down her cheek.

The funeral had been dreary, to say the least. Rainy, black, and depressing were the words that came to everyone's minds. Though Harry had never officially met Emily, he still felt a slow, gnawing pain travel up his throat as he watched her body lower into the ground. Aunt Petunia had been a mess, sobbing through the entire service(Harry was shocked to realize that maybe, just maybe, she had a heart), and even Uncle Vernon seemed a bit subdued.

Harry sat down on the edge of Hermione's bed, watching her sadly. Her one chance of ever escaping Privet Drive was gone, along with her favorite cousin. She didn't seem to notice his presence, too wrapped up in her own thoughts.

"'Mione?" He said quietly, pulling his knees up to his chest. She jumped, then turned to face him, her eyes puffy and red.

"I…why don't you come down for tea? Aunt Petunia is making some biscuits. Chocolate chip, your favorite…" She nodded, standing, and the two walked down the stairs, silent. A delicious scent wafted through the air, pulling them to the drawing room. Hermione sat on the floor, next to the fireplace, Harry being called(ever-so-slightly less demandingly) to serve tea. As everyone sipped on their mugs and munched on biscuits(everyone except Harry, of course. Hermione had stashed a few in her pocket to give him later.) the tell-tale sound of mail being pushed through the slot come to their ears. Without raising his voice too much, Uncle Vernon demanded that Harry("You there, boy!") retrieve it for them.

The skinny, dark-haired boy did as he told, picking up the small stack of letters. He lazily flipped through them, taking his time to walk back to where the family sat. He was about to reenter the drawing room when two envelopes caught his eye. They were thick and aged, and very wonderfully smooth, and written on the front of both of them in a beautiful, emerald green script were the words_ Mr. H. Potter_ and _Ms. H. Granger_.

Harry stared at them in shock, hands shaking as he entered the room. Handing the rest of the mail to Uncle Vernon, he sat back down next to Hermione, handing her the letter with her name on it. She gave him a curious look, then started examining the letter. Unfortunately, Dudley decided to take that moment to pay attention to his cousins.

"Mum, why do they have letters? I want a letter!" He said in his loud, obnoxious voice. Harry and Hermione looked at each other, wondering what to say.

"They have our names on them. They're ours," Harry was the first to speak up, clenching the envelope tightly in his hands. Uncle Vernon snorted, snatching it from his grip.

"No bloody likely…" He muttered, turning it over to open. Aunt Petunia looked over his shoulder, gasping. Quicker than Harry had ever seen her, she pulled the second letter from Hermione's grip, showing it to the large, beefy man. They looked at each other, almost in a frightened way, then Uncle Vernon shouted, "Out! All of you, out!" Harry was quite literally thrown from the room, Hermione and Dudley following rapidly. While Harry and Dudley dueled it out for the best listening spot, Hermione peeked through the keyhole, watching her uncle and aunt argue in whispers.

"They're coming for him, Vernon! What do we do?"

"Nothing. We burn the letters and forget all about this."

"But what of the girl? She's one of them? How can this be? Your sister was normal. She was a dentist, for heaven's sake! How could the girl be like them?"

"I don't know. But I cannot stand to have another one of those under my roof." Uncle Vernon's voice was getting louder, angrier.

"Vernon, it's too late to get rid of her now. Emily is dead, and it would look sketchy to send her to an orphanage this far into raising her."

"Hmph." Uncle Vernon seemed to be done with the conversation, and started munching on another biscuit. Harry, who had been kneeling on the ground, listening, looked at Hermione, who was frozen to the spot. He grabbed her arm, leading the small girl back to her room. As soon as he closed the door, the burst out talking.

"What does he mean they? Who's coming for me?"

"Get rid of me? They want to get rid of me?!?"

A silence filled the room, the Harry said, "I wont let them get rid of you. Never, ever in a million years will I let that happen."

She nodded, smiling a little, then said, "But who mailed us? I don't think I've ever seen Uncle Vernon so scared in my life."

* * *

The next couple of days were strained, to say the least. With each group of letters that showed up(some even rolled up in the eggs Aunt Petunia cracked open to make breakfast with), the darker and more prominent the purple little vein in Uncle Vernon's neck became. Hermione tended to keep to her room, or outside, and Harry stuck with her, both afraid of their Uncle's temper. On occasion, Harry tried to snag one of the letters when his relative weren't looking, but someone always caught him, and burned the letters quickly.

It was a week and a day later, exactly during tea-time, when Uncle Vernon lost it. Harry was passing around biscuits, when his uncle smiled wickedly. Turning to his son, he asked, in almost a sing-song voice, "Dudley, do you know what day it is?"

The boy strained himself, face turning a slight pink before answering, "Er…Sunday?"

Uncle Vernon's eyes narrowed, grin widening. "Yes. Sunday, a good day. Do you know why Sundays are so nice?"

Dudley shrugged, and Harry looked down, afraid of what his uncle might say. It was Hermione, though, who answered. "There's no post on Sundays."

"That's right! There's no post on Sundays. No letters today, no sir-ee. Not one, bloody let-" Before he could finish, an envelope flew out of the fireplace, grazing his head by an inch. The room was silent, dumbfounded, then-

"AHH!" A million letters poured through the fireplace, knocking Dudley from his spot on the loveseat. Aunt Petunia shrieked, ducking under the coffee table for cover. Harry jumped up and grabbed a letter, he and Hermione running from the room. Uncle Vernon caught up to them quickly, though.

He yanked Hermione back by the collar of her dress, ignoring her shrieks as he accidentally tugged her hair, too. Harry ran towards the cupboard, only to be tackled right at the door. Uncle Vernon wrestled the letter from his grip, standing up, victoriously.

"Everyone, pack your bags. We are leaving first thing in the morning." He walked up the stairs, but not before locking Harry in the cupboard.

Aunt Petunia looked ready to faint, holding on to Dudley for support. "But where are we going, Vernon?"

His eyes gleamed maliciously. "Away. Far away. Where they'll never find us."

* * *

Harry was packed ten minutes after waking up the next morning. He only owned a few articles of clothing, a toothbrush, and a few of the gifts Hermione had given him in the past years. It was hard to find gifts when you didn't receive an allowance and weren't allowed out of the neighborhood(or at times, the house) except for school. Yet, they still managed to find something to give each other for Christmas and Birthdays, even if it was a bit unconventional.

One year, she had given him a candy bar she had nicked from Dudley(he hadn't noticed). It was the first time he had ever had chocolate. Another year, he had given her a book he made himself. It was about a young boy and girl who were whisked from their horrible relatives' house to a magical castle where they lived and made friends and lived happily ever after. Harry knew she still carried around the construction-paper oddity in her pocket; it gave her hope of one day escaping.

But the best present Hermione had ever given him was a picture. They had made frames in art class, and since neither of them had any artistic ability, they ended up throwing away their creations. But, as Harry learned later, Hermione went back in at Recess every day(instead of to the library where she normally hung out) and worked with the teacher to make a beautiful frame for Harry's present.

It was red, Harry's favorite color, with gold stars decorating the border. On the top, written in a beautiful cursive(done by the teacher) were the words _Brother and Sister_. In it was one of the rare photos of Harry and Hermione, a Polaroid taken by the art teacher during class. Harry's hair was sticking up everywhere( more than usual), red streaks painting across his face. His hand was outstretched, trying to dab some paint on Hermione, who was laughing and leaning away, quite unaware of the pink feathers he had already stuck in her bushy hair.

He packed it, wrapped in an old t-shirt of Dudley's. Though he knew he didn't need it, he had the overwhelming feeling that he would not be returning to Number Four, Privet Drive anytime soon. He packed the rest of the gifts(a book on how airplanes flew, a poem she had written, and a brush to try to tame his hair with) into his school backpack on top of his clothes, then went upstairs to help Hermione with her stuff.

Though generally more liked by the Dursley's than Harry, Hermione had almost as few personal possessions as Harry did. She still had(and read religiously) the book of fairytales he had given her for Christmas a few years before, and the book he made her out of construction paper. Besides that, she had a few dresses, some pants and shirts, a toothbrush, hairbrush, some books of Dudley's that he had never opened and she had loved, and a few more books Harry had scavenged around to find for her. All of this went into her school bag quite easily, for she had the same gut feeling as Harry that this was the last she would be seeing of the house for a while.

The piled into the car right after breakfast, Harry and Hermione squeezed between Dudley and his bags, and drove the entire day, stopping only for lunch, and for Uncle Vernon to pick up a suspicious, long, package. They drove until the sun began to set and rain began to pour down in buckets. Uncle Vernon stopped at a dilapidated old hut, got out, and talked to a man. Then, the family followed him to a small boat, and paddled out to a slippery rock in the middle of the ocean, where a shack sat, threatening to blow over in the wind at any moment.

There, they feasted on bananas and a bag of crisps, then tried to light a fire in the fireplace with the greasy crisp bag. After that attempt failed, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia went to bed in the next room, leaving Dudley to sleep on the couch, and Harry and Hermione to share a blanket on the grimy floor.

Harry eyed Dudley's watch, noticing the time: 11:59 PM. Hermione seemed to notice too, because she pulled her bag over, rooting around. As the watched hit 12:00 AM, beeping, she thrust a present into his hands, smiling.

"Happy Birthday, Harry." He smiled, about to reply when a large BOOM interrupted, like a giant hand trying to bring down the door. Hermione jumped, and Harry's heart tried to creak out of his chest.

_BOOM!_ The door rattled, trying to fall inwards, held only by the hinges.

_BOOM_! Dudley woke with a start, muttering something about a cannon.

_BOOM!_ Harry pulled Hermione over to a corner, ducking down.

_BOOM_! The door fell to the ground, and a very large man stepped into the shack.

"Sorry 'bout that." He said in a gruff voice, picking the door back up and slamming it into it's place. "Ah, Harry! I 'aven't seen you since you were a little boy! You sure 'ave grown, specially 'round the middle-"

Dudley stood there, petrified. "I-I'm not Harry."

"I am." The skinny boy stepped out from his hiding spot, pulling Hermione with him. The giant appraised him, smiling.

"Of course you are! Oh, wait, I have something for you! It might have gotten a little squashed on the way here." The man rummaged through his many coat pockets, pulling out an assortment of objects before he produced and presented Harry with a bent white box. Harry opened it tentatively, surprised to find a chocolate cake that said, "Happee Birthdae, Harry" in green icing.

"Er…thank you. But if you don't mind my asking, who are you?" He and Hermione sat down on the couch next to the giant man, Dudley still standing there, frozen with fear.

"I'm Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds of Hogwarts. But of course, you'll know all about Hogwarts already." Harry shook his head, frowning.

"No, I don't." Hagrid stared at him, livid.

"What?!"

"I'm sorry." He felt stupid, like Hogwarts was something he was supposed to have learned about in school.

"It's not your fault. It's your stupid relative's fault."

"Stop it. Stop it right there!" Uncle Vernon stood behind them, rifle raised at Hagrid. Aunt Petunia stood behind him, frightened, and Dudley joined them, whimpering.

Hagrid rolled his eyes, walked over to Uncle Vernon, and yanked the rifle from his hands. With the strength of a hundred men, Hagrid tied the barrel of the gun into a knot, handing it back to the fat man.

"Dry up, Dursley, you great prune!" He hissed angrily. Then he returned to sitting next to Harry and Hermione, who stared at him, dumbstruck.

"You will not tell him!" Uncle Dursley snapped again, a little less loudly. Hagrid ignored him, facing Harry.

"Tell me what?" Harry asked, looking at Hermione.

"You're a- Well, actually, it's both o' you. You're a wizard. And a witch. You two magical."

**Sorry, guys, I couldn't remember exactly how the last scene went, but I leant HPSS to my little cousin, so I didn't have a reference. So…just pretend this is how it played out.**


	4. September 1, 1991

It was dark, the old desk lamp flickering ominously as the girl hunched over her keyboard, letting the ideas flow from her mind to her fingers. There was a sense of panic in the room as she wrote, the air thick with electric fear. A bead of sweat rolled down her face, lingering on her cheek like a teardrop.

Suddenly, the light went out, leaving the writer in darkness, her only light the ominous glowing from the computer's screen. She froze, heart racing. It couldn't be…not now…please, not now…

She felt herself get thrown backwards, slamming into the wall. As she raised her head, groaning in pain, she saw it. The cruel, vicious monster she had been running from for so many months.

And then she was drowning. Down, down, down into a deep pool of papers, slicing her skin and burying her deep. Pencils stabbed the girl as she tried to surface, and books fell from great heights, maiming her, sending her father into the abyss…

And…that is why I have not updated in, what, two months? I am sorry, school is hell, blah blah blah, I've been working on other stories, blah blah blah, and my cousin STILL has not returned my copy of HPSS. So…yeah. Please, please forgive me, and please, please ENJOY!

**Oh, also I made a cover for this story. Link on profile!**

* * *

Hermione and Harry sat in an empty compartment, the air thick with anxiety. Hermione had her nose buried in her new favorite book _Hogwarts, A History_, but her eyes never moved from their spot, and she never turned the page. Harry stroked the wings of his new pet, a snowy owl named Hedwig that Hagrid had bought him for his birthday. Neither said a word.

It had been a stroke of luck that they had even found the train in the first place. If Hermione hadn't stayed up the night before reading her school books, they would never have guessed to run through the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten.

As the countryside rolled past, Harry grew a bit bored. "Hermione? What are you reading about now?" He had stretched across the seat where he sat, head resting against the window. The young girl looked up, excited.

"Oh, Harry, this place sounds so _wonderful_! We get to take classes like Potions and Charms and History of Magic! We'll get to learn so much! And the houses! Well, there's four of them, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Slytherin. I think Ravenclaw would be the best, but Gryffindor would be great as well. I mean, Dumbledore himself was a Gryffindor…"

As Hermione trailed off, Harry thought back to his outing in Diagon Alley. While most of it had been fun and exciting, the conversation the two siblings had with Hagrid still disconcerted him.

_As they sat in the pub eating quietly, Harry asked Hagrid what happened to his parents. It wasn't the giant man who answered, though. It was Hermione._

"_They were killed by an evil wizard named Voldemor-"_

"_DON' SAY 'IS NAME!" Hagrid hissed, looking around the room in a panic. Hermione shut her mouth, eyes wide._

"_Why not?" Harry asked._

_Hagrid looked a bit confused. "Er, well, yer just don' say 'is name, alrigh'? Just…don'."_

_Harry and Hermione shared a look, then the girl continued. "You're famous Harry, because, when Voldemort tried to kill you, the spell rebounded and killed him."_

"_Well, I don' think it really killed 'im," Hagrid said, taking a swig from his mug. "I think 'e's still out there, 'alf-alive…"_

Harry was awoken by his thoughts as a red-haired boy came in, followed by a chubby, mousey-haired boy. "Oi. Any of you seen a toad? Neville's lost his." The ginger kid jabbed his thumb at the boy behind him, who looked close to tears.

"Oh, no. I'm so sorry…" Hermione said, biting her lip. Then she stared at the boy in front of her, cocking her head. "You've got dirt on your nose, you know that?"

The boy scowled, rubbing at the spot Hermione pointed to. They left quickly, but not after the loud one introduced himself as Ron Weasley. As soon as the door closed behind them, Hermione quirked her eyebrow at Harry. "Why are you so quiet?"

He shrugged, but she just glared at him. "What's wrong, Harry?"

"Nothing." But he said it too quickly, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Nothing? Right. Seriously, what's _wrong_?"

Harry sighed. "It's just, well… I can't stop thinking about Voldemort. And my parents."

Hermione walked over to Harry's side of the compartment, sitting beside him. "Oh, Harry. I'm sorry."

He smiled sadly. "And now I'm famous for something I had no control over. I didn't ask Voldemort to kill my parents. I didn't ask him to try to kill me. I just…I wish I had my parents back…"

Hermione pulled her knees to her chest, eyes on the ground. "I know, Harry. So do I." She fingered the small locket that hung from her neck, tears forming in her eyes.

He looked at her, then slung his arm around her shoulder. "But I guess there _is_ one good thing about this."

Hermione looked appalled. "Good thing? _What_?"

"I have you as a sister."

**Okay. Super short. I know. And stupid. I'm tired. I just wanted to get them on their way to Hogwarts. Lots o' drama ahead. Ron comes more into play next chapter. So does Draco. Ahaha…**

**Review Please!!!**


	5. September 1, 1991 Pt 2

**I've stopped coming up with the same ol' excuses for not updating. You know the drill.**

_Oh you may not think me pretty, _

_But don't judge on what you see, _

_I'll eat myself if you can find _

_A smarter hat than me. _

_You can keep your bowlers black, _

_Your top hats sleek and tall, _

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat _

_And I can cap them all. _

_There's nothing hidden in your head _

_The Sorting Hat can't see, _

_So try me on and I will tell you _

_Where you ought to be. _

_You might belong in Gryffindor, _

_Where dwell the brave at heart, _

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry _

_Set Gryffindors apart; _

_You might belong in Hufflepuff, _

_Where they are just and loyal, _

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true _

_And unafraid of toil; _

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, _

_if you've a ready mind, _

_Where those of wit and learning, _

_Will always find their kind; _

_Or perhaps in Slytherin _

_You'll make your real friends, _

_Those cunning folks use any means _

_To achieve their ends. _

_So put me on! Don't be afraid! _

_And don't get in a flap! _

_You're in safe hands (though I have none) _

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

Hermione clutched at Harry's arm, mouth open wide. The young boy couldn't be sure what she was gaping at -- The night sky on the ceiling, the hundreds of floating candles, or the fact that a hat just sang to them. Harry smiled at his sister, and gripped her shoulder in excitement.

Hogwarts was already better than they could have imagined. It was the magical escape they had dreamt of for years.

Professor McGonagall, a thin, strict-looking woman, stood up before the mass of students, holding out a scroll.

"Hannah Abbott," she called, motioning to the decrepit hat. A sweet-faced girl with blonde pig-tails walked up to the Sorting Hat nervously, setting it on her head.

"What do you suppose it says to you, when your up there?" Harry whispered to Hermione.

She shushed him, gazing intently on the sorting process. A moment passed, then the hat called out, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

The Hufflepuff table cheered loudly, welcoming Hannah. Hermione turned to Harry, biting her lip.

"I don't know, Harry. I'm sure it's different for each person." They turned in time to hear "Bones, Susan" join Hannah at the Hufflepuff table.

They stood nervously together through "Brown, Lavender" becoming a Gryffindor to "Greengrass, Daphne" becoming a Slytherin, when "Granger, Hermione" was called. She gave Harry's arm a painful squeeze, then walked up to the hat, setting it on her head.

It took the stupid hat an eternity to decided which house suited Hermione, or so Harry thought. She didn't end up in Ravenclaw, like he supposed she would, but in Gryffindor. Harry knew she was brave, but more so brainy. Harry watched as she happily walked to the cheering table, being greeted by a horde of red-heads.

Time seemed to slow as the students from "Hopkins, Wayne" to "Patil, Parvati" were sorted, but finally, _finally_, "Potter, Harry" was called. He walked up slowly, hearing his name whispered across the hall. He turned once, to see Hermione smiling at him supportively. He smiled back, sitting down confidently on the stool, placing the hat on his head.

"Hmm…where to put you…where to put you…Loyalty to your friends…not a bad mind, either…there's courage, much courage, yes…and a desire to prove yourself…where to put you…" The Hat's voice whispered in Harry's ear.

"Please, Gryffindor…I need to be with Hermione…please?" Harry begged, clutching at his stool.

"Are you sure? You would do well in Slytherin?" Harry shook his head, ignoring the fact that everyone could see him.

"Gryffindor. I have to be there to protect Hermione. She's my sister."

"Well, if you're sure, I guess it will have to be…GRYFFINDOR!" Harry ripped the hat off of his head, beaming. The boy practically ran to the cheering table, ignoring the students banging on their plates with knives or the two red-headed twins who had started chanting, "WE GOT POTTER! WE GOT POTTER!"

Hermione stood up with the rest of the table, grin wide, buck-teeth showing. As Harry approached she flung her arms around him. "We're still together, Harry! Isn't this great?"

He looked around at the rest of the table. There was a horde of gingers, a group of athletic kids holding magazines with broomsticks on the cover, and then Hermione, his sister, his best friend.

"Yeah, it is."

* * *

Harry pulled on his pajamas along with the rest of his roommates. They were all talking, joking pretty comfortably, and he especially got along well with the red-headed kid from the train, whose name he learned was Ron Weasley. Harry was just putting his toothbrush back into his trunk when there was a knock at their door. The short, loud boy named Seamus opened it, jumping back when he saw who it was.

"OI! Yah can' just come in 'ere without a warning! I'm 'alf naked!" He pulled the hangings from the shy boy, Neville Longbottom's, bed, pulling them around himself. The tall, muggle-born boy, Dean Thomas, fell onto the ground laughing, while Neville just looked on, confused, from behind the bathroom door.

"Oh, please, like I care. Is Harry here?" Ron looked rather annoyed at the bushy-haired girl.

"A fan, eh? Get out. You're not even supposed to be up here. This is a _boy's_ dorm." He crossed his arms, glowering at the girl. She glowered right back, hands on hips.

"I'm not _stupid_. It's obviously a boy's dorm, that's why I knew Harry would be here. Now where is he?"

Harry was about to say something when Ron spoke again. "Like I said: Leave. Just because you're the only Potterr-fan girl with the guts to come up here looking for him, doesn't mean he wants to talk to you."

"Er, Ron?" Harry cut in, standing up, closing his trunk. "I actually do want to talk to her."

Ron looked appalled. "Why on earth would you ever want to?"

"She's my sister." The dorm went silent, all of them staring at Hermione.

"WHAT?" "Sister?" "Since when?" "BUT, I THOUGHT-" "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL?"

Harry moved over to Hermione, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "Guys! This is Hermione Granger, my "sister". We grew up together, in our muggle aunt and uncle's house, 'cause we're both orphans." The boys nodded in half-understanding.

"Now, what did you need, Hermoine?" Harry turned to his sister, who looked a little embarrassed.

"Hmm? Oh, err, I wanted to get my rucksack out of your trunk." Harry nodded, walking over to his trunk, popping it open.

"Why'd you keep it in his?" Ron asked, lounging on his bed next to Harry's.

Harry and Hermione answered at the same time. "Because there were too many books in mine." "Because Hermione has a book addiction."

Ron looked seriously weirded out by Hermione, but said nothing else, choosing instead to slip under the covers of his bed.

"Here you go, Hermione." Harry tossed her the small rucksack she hadn't even unpacked since they escaped from the island with Hagrid. She frowned at his reckless move, checking to make sure nothing had been harmed.

"Alright, everything is in order. Thanks, Harry. See you in the morning. Err…nice to meet…all of you." She left the room quickly, something dropping from her bag as she passed. Neville picked it up, examining it with Dean.

"It looks like a book about Hogwarts…made by a little kid…" They passed it to Ron, who just looked at it and laughed.

"What is this, Harry?" He asked, tossing it over to where Harry stood. He looked at it and smiled.

"Oh, I made this for Hermione when we were little. It was a story about a boy and girl escaping their relatives house to go live in a magical castle where they could actually make friends and be happy." The others just stared at him, eyes wide.

"What?" He said, placing the book next to Hermione's picture frame on his bedside table.

The others just exchanged looks, but said nothing. The room was quiet until Seamus peeked out from behind his bed, eyes wide.

"Is it safe yet? Can I come out?"

"It was safe a while ago, Seamus," Dean said, getting into his bed.

"Oh." The short boy climbed into his bed, tossing the bed-hangings to Neville.

"Well, goodnight everyone," Neville said as Ron's snores emitted through the room and Harry turned out the last of the lights. "And welcome to Hogwarts."

**Sorry it's short. Please review!**


	6. AN

**Hey everyone, just posting this to see if THIS chapter will send out a notification. I've been trying to have this chapter show up for ever.**

**So I hope this works.**

**Anna**


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